


There are times we live for somebody else

by KillingVillanelle



Series: We were not born in sin [2]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:50:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillingVillanelle/pseuds/KillingVillanelle
Summary: She thinks about the time her mom took her to see the Northern lights. Told little Oksana, 'This is the most beautiful thing you'll ever see.' It was right before she was diagnosed with cancer and the only good memory Villanelle has of the woman. Now Villanelle gets to see the Northern lights every night and knows they have nothing on Eve Polastri.





	There are times we live for somebody else

A woman dressed in a dark brown biker jacket, light pink v neck, and torn boyfriend jeans sits alone at the bar. She wasn't meant to be alone. But alas, Eve stood Villanelle up once again. The bartender, Tod, watched her with pity. She dunked her long finger into her whiskey and stirred it. It was already half an hour past the time Eve was supposed to be here. Patrons in the bar, laughed and talked as if they didn't know she was upset.  _ Rude assholes, _ she thinks, _ Don't they know, I'm sad. _

The captain of the crab boat she got kicked off is here tonight. She debates sucking it up and apologizing to him for stabbing his nephew, even if she didn't mean the apology. Then maybe she could get back on the boat and spend a month away from Eve. Not that she wants to be away from Eve for that long, but Eve obviously didn't want to be around her. If she did she would have came tonight. They had been talking a bit more since she got back from the boat. That’s Villanelle’s life now. Not dates on a calendar but rather milestones surrounding Eve. The day she met Eve in the bathroom. The day she had dinner with Eve. The day Eve stabbed her. The day Eve ordered a hit on herself. The day Eve watched her kill someone for the first time. The day Eve listened to her touch herself. The day Eve killed Raymond. The day Eve finally spoke to her again. The day Eve bruised Villanelle’s chest. The day Villanelle got back from two weeks on the crab boat and Eve cried because she thought Villanelle left her alone. 

"You ain't going back on that boat." Tod takes notice of Villanelle eyeing the captain. "You should go home and check on her. Not run away."

Villanelle rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her whiskey. "If she wanted to see me, she would have actually showed up," she grumbles in that sweet southern accent. It was almost sickly sweet.

"Jessica," he chastises, "just go home and check on her. You said she started painting the cabin today. She's probably got some tunes on and doesn't even realize the time." He steals her glass out of her hand and places in on the bar.

"Whatever." She climbs off her bar stool and picks up her truck keys. Before walking away she points at her unfinished drink. "You're paying for that because you wouldn't let me finish it."

"No, I'm not. I'll put it on your tab."

"Asshole."

"Tell Dana I said hi." 

Villanelle won't. Her and Eve barely talk when their both in the cabin so she isn't going to waste the time talking about some old guy. It's Eve's cabin and Villanelle is a pest creeping around it, trying to avoid not bother the former. The cold spring air bites at her skin while she jiggles her keys in her hand. She took the Ford pickup tonight because she had a deer to drop off at the butcher before going to the bar. The battery in the clicker is dead so she shoves the key into the door to unlock it. She thought this time would be different. After the last time Eve stood her up and got her anger out, Villanelle thought things were getting better. Faded yellow bruises still marked her chest from Eve's fists, but Eve would actually talk to her now. Small talk about the latest news or she’d asked what Villanelle was doing that day. 

Shitty rock music blares through the static truck radio.  _ Fuck, Eve, _ Villanelle thinks,  _ fuck this stupid truck, and this boring town.  _ Villanelle believes she should be rewarded for good behavior. A month and a half without murdering anyone? That deserved something right? Although if Villanelle said that, Eve would yell at her about the fact she needs rewarded to not murder people.  _ Normal people don't want to kill people, Oksana! _ , Eve yells in Villanelle's brain. Since she was mad she would use her real name. 

 

It takes twenty minutes till Villanelle is driving down the gravel road towards the cabin. Rocks tink off the bottom of the yellow truck. A single light flickers on the front porch. Villanelle pulls up beside the white Jeep she bought Eve and her motorcycle. She slams the door shut and turns to walk up to the cabin. A silhouette of a woman catches her eye. 

Winds blows the bottom of Eve's tank top. She stands barefoot at the edge of the lake. Jagged rocks cut the bottom of her feet, but that's the least of her worries. Frozen dirt crunches behind as Villanelle makes her way over.

"Eve?"

She doesn't respond. 

“Eve, it’s cold out,” Villanelle shrugs off her jacket and wraps it around Eve’s bare shoulders. “Why are you out here?”

“I don’t want to be inside tonight.” Her voice is toneless and she doesn’t move her eyes away from the lake.

“What can I do Eve?” It was something her and Eve learned to have Villanelle ask her, because Villanelle might not be able to understand the guilt that Eve feels, but she is able to understand what Eve tells her to do.

“Can you go get blankets from inside? We can sleep in the back of the Ford.”

Villanelle wants to argue that’s it’s too cold to sleep outside but instead she sits her hand on Eve’s shoulder. “Alright, do you want anything else?”

“No, thanks. I’ll… meet you at the truck.” Eve grips Villanelle’s coat and walks past her toward the truck. Villanelle stands still for a second. Something had to have happened for Eve to be shut down like this. She shakes her head and starts to make her way to the cabin. 

She flicks up the light switch while kicking off her boots. It’s a rule Eve had been very-

_ Oh _ .

Villanelle takes in the sight before while tears prick at her eyes. A light tan braided rope hangs down from the second story loft. The end of it is tied into a perfect loop and the seat of a chair is about five feet below it. She makes her way to the kitchen and grabs a trash bag. Anything sharp or could be used to harm oneself she stuffs into the bag. Her face is soaked by the time she finishes with the first floor and is climbing the stairs to the second floor.

She makes her way to the post the rope is tied to. It’s the third one to left. Her legs cross as she sits down on the floor and works her fingers through the knots. They are messy and done when someone was in a frantic mindset. She pulls the rope up and slides it in the bag. 

Next, she went to Eve's bathroom. Villanelle debates taking the ibuprofen pills out of her medicine cabinet but she also knows she can't completely control Eve. So she leaves the pills but takes Eve's razors and scissors. 

She carries it all to the guest room, her bedroom. Pulling her keys out, she unlocks her weapons trunk and drops the black bag in it. With a click the lock is back on the trunk and she slides the keys in her jeans pocket before undressing and changing into black sweats and a grey knit sweater. She grabs another sweater, a soft blue one, for Eve and tosses it on top of her bed. Everything but the fitted sheet comes off with the pillows wrapped in the middle. Before picking up the blankets she wipes the back of her hand against her face. Villanelle hurries downstairs and back outside to Eve.

Eve sits on the tailgate of the truck. Her feet swing back and forth while she twiddles her thumbs in her lap. Villanelle hurls the thick bundle of blankets and pillows into the bed of the truck and makes her way in front of Eve. One of her hands rests on each of Eve's knees while she squats down. Eve looks up at her. "I'm sorry."

"Eve, I need you to be honest with me."

Eve nods.

"Do you want to go back to London?"

Eve jerks back. "What?"

"If you want to go back to London… I can make that happen. Give you a couple bruises and drop you off at the Thames House. You can-"

"Villanelle, I don't want to go back. I want to be here with you," Eve assures her. She brings her hand up and wipes a tear away from Villanelle's face. 

"Then why?"

"I don't know. I…I wanted to hurt you," Eve admits. 

Villanelle nods and stands up. She tugs Eve off the tailgate. "'I'm going to find the thing you care about and I'm going to kill it.'" Villanelle quotes Eve, almost perfect to the pitch and accent of her voice. She then lets out a bitter laugh. "Does that mean you've found yourself?"

Eve walks over to the opposite side of the truck and catches the edge of the blanket as Villanelle tosses it to her. "I think I'm ready to move on."

"Is that how that works?"

It's Eve's turn to laugh as if an hour ago she wasn't debating killing herself. "Probably not how it's supposed to but I think we both know that we're not exactly normal." A blue sweater connects with her shoulder.

"Take my jacket off and put that on. That jacket might be warm but it's not good to sleep in," Villanelle says while pulling herself up, using the truck tire as a foot hold. She finishes making their makeshift bed. 

Eve tosses Villanelle's leather jacket over the side of the truck and then makes her way to the tailgate. Villanelle is waiting for her and holds her right hand out for Eve. The left slips under Eve's armpit as she lifts her up.

The pair climbs into the bed. Villanelle lets Eve take the left side. The former lays on her back and stares at the night sky. She thinks about the time her mom took her to see the Northern lights. Told little Oksana, ' _This_ _is the most beautiful thing you'll ever see._ ' It was right before she was diagnosed with cancer and the only good memory Villanelle has of the woman. Now Villanelle gets to see the Northern lights every night and knows they have nothing on Eve Polastri. Her left arm is behind her head and her right hand is tracing Eve's mark.

Eve, on the other hand, is laying on her side and watching the woman that made sure they weren't touching. So much to the point she let Eve crawl under the covers while she froze on top of the covers. She wants to reach out and cup Villanelle's hand. She wants Villanelle to touch her. Anywhere. Rough and harsh. To stop treating her like she's about to break. Eve knew if anyone else had hit Villanelle enough to leave bruises on her chest so she couldn't wear a low cut shirt would be dead.

"It would have hurt me," Villanelle says and turns to look at Eve. Moonlight glistens against her wet face. "Eve, I couldn't… when I walked in… I was so angry when you didn't show up. I was still angry when you were down by the lake. Then I walked into the cabin and…" Villanelle moves her hand from the scar up to her neck. "It felt- it  _ feels _ like I'm being choked. Except I can't get this hand off me. It's just getting tighter and tight-" her voice cracks and a sob trembles through her body. She's trying to describe feelings in the way she understands. Hurt is being choked. Sadness is a twisting knife in her abdomen. Fear is spiders crawling up and down her throat. Love is a gunshot to the chest while everything spills out.

Eve guides Villanelle under the blanket and curls into her strong arms as they both cry into each other. It's not obvious who is comforting each other. Eve trembles from her own crying and Villanelle sobs shake her body. Her fingers grip at her sweater and put wide holes into the grey knitting. She tries to pull Villanelle closer but it's impossible. 

Villanelle runs her hand down the back of Eve's hair. Everytime she manages to calm down a new sob wracks through her body. She doesn't ever want to let Eve go. Eve's hers. But if Eve had wanted to go back to London, Villanelle would have made it  work. Villanelle was selfish but she needed Eve to be alive. She knew that if Eve died she'd be ten times the ruthless killer she was before Eve. Start with Konstantin and his-

"What are you thinking about?" Eve asks. Her voice is shaky but she's manage to calm down. She moves away so she can look at Villanelle.

Villanelle shakes her head. There were things Eve didn't need to hear. "Do you think the Northern Lights are pretty?" She rolls over on her back and takes the position she was in before.

Eve scoots closer to Villanelle and this time she puts her hand over Villanelle's. "What were you thinking about?" she asks again.

"Anna killed herself. I had a roommate in prison who killed herself. Both of them blamed me. I didn't get it. I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger or made her tie the bedsheets around her neck. Yet everyone says it's my fault. That I might as well have killed them." She lolls her head over to look at Eve. "Would you have blamed me?"

Eve stares at her and she doesn't know how to respond. When she opens her mouth to respond Villanelle cuts her off.

"Don't worry about answering Eve. That was enough of an answer." Tearing her hand away from Eve, Villanelle turns on her side and faces away from her.

She scoots closer to Villanelle and presses her head in between tense shoulders blades. With force she intertwines their fingers again and grips Villanelle's midsection. Eve grumbles, "It's your damn fault I'm alive," and the only response she gets to know the other woman heard her is a small laugh and her hand being moved into a more comfortable position.


End file.
